


Weightless

by FrekyDeky



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Flashbacks, Heavy Angst, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:28:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27833806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrekyDeky/pseuds/FrekyDeky
Summary: She has many titles, but for ten years after the blight, she has lived without a name. She has run away from her regrets and traveled endlessly with her shame and sword. When the kingdom calls on her again, Etheria Tabris is forced to acknowledge her regrets... She reminds herself throughout the grueling week long battle that someday she will become what she has always wanted to be: Weightless.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Tabris (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Alistair/Tabris (Dragon Age), Zevran Arainai/Female Tabris, Zevran Arainai/Female Warden, Zevran/ Tabris
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

I told myself that when my time came to cross into the Fade, I would face my mothers spirit with no regrets. I lived my life fearlessly, unashamed, diligently. Yet, sure enough, the Maker had different plans for me; I knew it as soon as I heard the hollow thunk of the empty bottle against Vaughn's head. My heart fell into my stomach as his limp body met the ground. My fate was as good as sealed when those humans scattered from the Alienage like scared rats.  
One rat, and there's a million more beneath the floor. I was not surprised when they came back... Not surprised when I woke up in that back room with a headache singing delirium. I did not blink while slaughtering them all. My vision was blurred, my heart still, my skin cold; I needed to protect Shianni. I knew the consequences of all the blood, and I was prepared to meet the rope as soon as I saw the others home. I was glad to see the soldiers nearing so soon; yes, I had no time to regret what I had done.  
Yes... They were all rats beneath the floor... And I would be glad to be spared no time to process blue eyes running over with fear, hand over gutted throats and pitiful gargles of cries... Maker, I didn't want to realize my chaos.  
I smile bitterly over the murky whisky in my hand. This bar is dank, humid with sweat and drunken breath... Hatred towards Duncan runs hot with the alcohol on these nights. I hate him for diverting me. In my mothers arms, regretless, weightless, I could've been... Instead I am here in this bar with a shem breathing down my neck, too drunk to notice the large sword I've been flashing at him since I've entered. His breath smells heavy of alcohol, reminiscent of Lord Vaughn...  
"You're a Gray Warden, you say?" The human on my right babbles before letting out a laugh that sounds more like he's about to throw up than speak. "I hear elven wardens have it in for human men... That Commander of yours - Hero of Ferelden - had some steam with the king, did she not? How 'bouts we do the same..." It may as well have been vomit coming from his chapped lips. A sharp glare bolts at him from my muted eyes.  
"Ser, I have told you to distract yourself with someone else in this tavern. If you do not leave me alone I will not hesitate to remove your tongue." My fiery red hair tumbles into view from under my hood.  
"Playing hard to get, are you?" He hums as he downs the remaining half of his ale, some spilling onto his greasy beard. "Tell me, what's your name?"  
"Meaningless to you." I assure as I rush to finish my drink. I shall simply find somewhere else to rest for tonight... The bed is not worth this sort of disgusting harassment from a slob like this.  
"Come, we have the rest of this night to learn of each other sweet girl." He laughs. I groan inwardly and wave the barkeep over. "My name is Roran." He continues on about how his road led him here; An ex-wife who drove him away - it's all her fault because she nagged him day and night and all he could do to escape was become a drunk and lay with other women - and now here he is, a drunk harassing women regularly. Not that I care to hear... He just speaks so damn loud.  
"Here's my payment... Thank you for the fire and meal."  
"Of course, a Gray Warden is always welcome here."  
"Are you leaving so quickly?" The man - Roran - whines after me. I push my way through the crowd of staggering drunks, glad to be away from the stench of the alcohol and sweat.  
I step out into the cold air... The rain has gotten much heavier since I entered the remote tavern. I study the road and let out a fast breath. If I make it to the line of the Brecilian Forest I may be able to find a good enough spot to put up camp.  
"Abu." I gently call, waiting for my hound to come stumbling out from his hiding place. Heavy pounding on the wet ground warns me of his quick and happy arrival. He plants a slobbery lick onto the palm of my hand, those dark eyes curious about what my next move is. "Those shems behave worse than dogs." I scoff to him as I place my hand onto his wet fur.  
"Dear lady, such foulness is not limited to humans." My blade is drawn quickly, glowing bright in the moonlight as I point it toward the shadow that the voice came from. Shuffling sounds as the figure emerges with a large grin on tan lips, "I, for one, am notorious for such despicable acts." My heart swells and shatters within seconds. My wrist falters in its' firm grip on my weapon, a familiar face bringing tears to my eyes.  
"Zevran..."  
"It is I." He smiles back, his hands still out at his side. I quickly sheath my sword and near him, hugging him tightly. "So, I see you have missed me." He gently laughs, returning my hug.  
"Of course I have, my friend." I sigh back, basking in the warmth of another person... It has been too long since I've been hugged... Since I've been able to call someone friend.  
"Quickly, lets return inside. I am soaking wet and I would much rather spend my time receiving drinks from beautiful Gray Wardens." I let out a scoff.  
"You're right... I shouldn't reserve my disgust for just human men." We laugh together as we enter the tavern. "I take it you didn't come find me for just a chat, Zevran." I say as we position ourselves next to the fire, Abu gladly pressing himself against Zevran's legs.  
"You offend me!" He exclaims, gratefully accepting the drink pushed into his hands by the bar maid. "But, you are correct." He adds quickly. A smile ghosts over my scarred lip. "That scar is new, how did it happen?"  
"Blood mage in Tevinter." I shortly respond.  
"To think he had the audacity to place a scar on such a beautiful and holy face... May he suffer in death as well."  
"He's not dead... He's tranquil now." Zevran's rant is reduced to a heavy sigh and exaggerated nodding from him.  
"I should've guessed as much, considering it was you who was involved... You are not a woman meant for death." I smile gently, feeling the fire's warmth wiggling itself into my fingers. "All the same, you remain as beautiful as the day you spared me." I laugh.  
"You still flatter me to this day." I mumble, removing my cloak from around my neck.  
"And as I have always said, it is not flattery if it is true, no?" I shake my head with a grin on my lips and drink hesitating at my lips. I take a long gulp, urging the blonde to tell me why he sought me out... Zevran rests back in the chair, his arms laying on the arm rests and hands folded in front of him. A smile lingers on his lips as his eyes examine the chipped wood flooring. "I made my best case to the rest, trying to leave you be... But they insist I seek you out to reason." A heavy, ashamed, sigh leaves me as I shake my head. I know exactly where this is going. Zevran earns a glance from me as he moves in his chair to lean forward and latch onto my cold hands.  
"Etheria... You have been gone for so long, no? Ten years, and none have heard a word from you. Many lords have moved to have you removed as the Arl of Amaranthine, and also question your competency as Commander Warden."  
"Has the order not stepped in to prove I am still fulfilling my duty?" I sigh quietly. He nods slowly.  
"They have... But it seems the lords will not accept unless you are present in the flesh..." Zevran's cloud with concern at my paling expression, his hands tightening on mine. "My friend... You have been gone for a long time. Are you not ready to face him yet?" I clench my jaw and slowly bring my eyes up to his. "It is due time for you to begin acknowledging the world again..." I pull my hands from his gently, watching his brows piece together in confusion.  
"Have I not given this world enough of myself already?" I ask, rage bubbling in my stomach again. "I have given this world my future, my pride, my heart, every hope of happiness. I have bled and used every last piece of myself to keep a world that had already left me broken and worthless from falling apart. What more can I give them?" Zevrans mouth remains in a thin line.  
"Etheria..." He fishes for words, but I stop him with a pleading gaze.  
"Please, Zevran... Let us rest through the night... I've been traveling all day and Abu and I are tired... I'm sure you are as well." I turn away, but turn back to him. "I'll pay for your room tonight. Let's talk again in the morning." He leans back in his chair, his eyes desperately trying to reach through mine. I stare back; I have been building this wall for ten years, and I am confident no one will ever get through again. He nods and waves me off.  
"Sleep well tonight my friend." I do my best to push a smile onto my lips, a sorry attempt.  
"You as well." I whistle to Abu and stalk to the bar. I wave owner town and slap silvers into his dirty palm. "Two rooms for the night."  
"Sure thing, Warden." I smile to him.  
"Came back for more did you?" Rorin hasn't moved an inch since I left earlier.  
"Sod off, shem. I'm in no mood to be merciful tonight." I growl before flashing a feral glare and my sword at him one last time.  
Tis true... I have spent the better half of ten years running away. I slowly walk up the stairs, towards the rooms, ignoring the moaning and creaking coming from many rooms. My feet become heavier with each step.  
I have many titles. Each bearing a duty, an obligation, a stake of claim that Thedas has placed on me.  
Hero of Fereldan. A worthless elf, easy to throw into the thick of it when the kingdom has an issue.  
Arl of Amaranthine. A shameless attempt to show the world that the situation for elves is improving. A blatant lie. I have a title, but I had to give up much more than what I have now to earn it.  
Commander Warden Etheria Tabris. An eternal shackle of servitude. Forever, I will be the chosen sacrifice.  
I sit on the bed and look up to the mirror across from me. The bags under my eyes, paired with my muted white eyes make me look as if I am the damned dead. I release my long fiery red hair from it's braid, playing with the dead tips. I smile bitterly.  
I am worthless... Disposable. A hollow shell beckoning oblivion.  
These days, all I can do is apologize to my mother. All I have is regrets. And they are heavy; becoming heavier with each passing night. They crush my chest and pull my shoulders down with each glance from a stranger, every time I remember what golden hair feels like in my hands, or that I ever allowed a human to hold me.  
I fall back onto the hard bed and close my eyes. The window has a slight bit of cold hair pushing in through the cracks, and it licks gently at my cheeks. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be a cloud. No one would call on a cloud to save the world. No one could yell at her for her decisions that were forced on her... She wouldn't have to make decisions. She wouldn't remember the pain of heart break, of a stab wound, or the anger that comes with living. She would simply be a cloud... She would simply be weightless. Oh, what I wouldn't give to be a cloud on nights like these.  
I open my eyes and look that the water stained ceiling, and reluctantly hear the moaning in the room next door, and the shouting downstairs. My fingers twitch and clench tightly around the blanket beneath me. My chest tightens. I can never be a cloud.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun was out that morning. I remember that I’d picked up a leaf while walking the path and was tearing it apart idly while watching the sides of the road like darkspawn could jump out at any second. I closed my eyes and turned my face towards the sky, inhaling the cold and crisp air while enjoying the suns warmth on my skin. My body didn’t quite know what to do; marvel in the warm or shiver at the cold? I hated those types of silent mornings, they always seemed so contradictory, and they still do.  
Was it peaceful or chaotic? The only sound was that of the birds chirping and our gear tapping as we moved camp towards Redcliffe. Birds chirping was always described in stories as a beautiful morning, that there was nothing more relaxing… And I guess I should’ve taken the silence for a blessing, that there wasn’t screaming or the clashing of swords and hissing of arrows… Yet, it was all quite incessant, and I felt like running away, even on a beautiful morning like that.  
“Oh, thank the Maker!” Cut through my forced contentment. I dropped the brutalized leaf and placed my hand onto the hilt of my sword. The clinking of gear stopped as we all watched the nearing woman wearily; my tongue twisted in my mouth as I wondered if she looked trustworthy or not. I shot a glance toward Wynne and Alistair on my left. They were exchanging glances while shuffling on their feet. “You have to help me! The attacked my caravan!” There was alarm in her voice, we could all hear it, but it fell dead just before it reached my heart; for some reason, it didn’t feel sincere.  
Looking back on it now, I should’ve remembered my thoughts just prior to meeting that woman; it was so quiet. I didn’t hear blades that morning, or any screaming… But still, I shot forward with my heart crawling into my throat. To believe I had allowed myself to be worried of a human woman like that… I should’ve known it was a lie, so I could’ve avoided the shame that flooded my stomach when I saw all those men and an elf standing there with arms crossed and a smirk on tan lips.  
_  
“To begin my day eating breakfast with you, old friend, is a dream come true.” I smile, examining the man sitting before me. The tavern has since emptied out from the night before, and breathing was much easier to do with the windows open and breeze pushing out last nights grime. “Come, tell me, what has the last ten years brought you?” He questions as he looks down to the simple meal in front of him. Bread and a slice of meat on a chipped plate; eggs would’ve been on the menu but the farm chickens from down the road were “confiscated” by a group of bandits… I had planned on paying them a visit.  
“I have spent it quite lazily.” I explain, smiling at him… How long has it been since I have comfortably had a conversation with someone? “I simply explored, bartered and sold, learned more about alchemy…”  
“Ah yes, I remember you told me that you wish you knew more. I’ve always had my eye out for a book on alchemy.” He lets out a wistful sigh, “Ah, but each time I found one the coin in my pocket was low or I didn’t know where you were.” He shoots me a glance, the slight smirk on his lips telling of his mischievous tone. I chuckle.  
“I know you simply spent your earnings at the Pearl or its’ likes. You shouldn’t lie to dear friends.” Really, Zevran should know better than to try and save face with me. Sometimes I wonder if he forgets that we spent the better half of a year traveling and bleeding together. The laugh and smile that bursts from him is sincere; he covers his mouth, the brown in his eyes sparkling like he just found a treasure chest.  
“You know me all too well.” He sighs. I shrug my shoulders and tap my hands on the table. Zevran juts his chin out toward me after taking a large bite of his meal, and speaking with his mouth full, says, “Where do your adventures lead you today?” I sigh.  
“I had planned on wandering into the Bracilian Forest. My crafting supplies are running low.” Zevran hums, eyebrows raising.  
“Planned?” I nod and swallow thickly, tapping my fingers on my mug. I clench my jaw.  
“Plans always change.”  
_  
I stared down at the unconscious elven man, conflicted at his rising and falling chest. I always looked to Alistair for advice, but that time he seemed just as dumb founded as I. With a heavy sigh, I pushed my bangs from my face and tossed my weight from foot to foot. What was someone supposed to do with an assassin that just tried to kill them? Should I have killed him right then, or should I have asked questions and then killed him?  
“He’s still alive.” Leliana had mentioned as she stepped to me. My pearlescent eyes fell lidded as I send her an unenthused expression. The sword in my hand trembled; I never much liked staring someone I was about to kill in the face… But that time, I looked too long at him and hesitated. As I worked up the steel to continue with the deed he started to groan in his awakening. I pressed the tip of my sword to his throat firmly and watched him startle into reality.  
A sheepish smile was the first thing Zevran offered me. It was the last thing I expected from the assassin that tried to take my life not even ten minutes before; of course I was startled. My eyebrows and eyes narrowed at his small gesture. Perhaps I was a victim of that smooth tongue of his, but before I knew it, I was offering him a hand while desperately trying to ignore Alistairs sharp blue eyes scolding me from behind… I knew I was going to be hearing about it later, but I just couldn’t bring myself to end this one man…  
_  
“Zevran… Do you mind if I ask your advice?” We’ve been on the road toward Denerim for around an hour, and I’ve just worked up the courage to ask him the question that’s been on my mind since our talk last night. He hums, stopping in his place and turning to face me entirely. The soft, awkward smile on his lips brings a sort of warmth to my chest… I guess I’ve never allowed myself to think how wonderful it was to have him – or anyone – around on my travels.  
“Of course.” I look to my fingers in front of me, tangled together and picking at my chipped nails. How do I word it without sounding like a desperate, love-sick teenage girl? How can I ask a question about a love long gone without sounding like I’m still broken over it? My pride won't allow anyone to think that I was ever so devastated by another person. I push my eyes up to the forest line in the distance on our right. If I were stronger… I’d be able to just ask. I’d be over all of it… I would’ve never abandoned my duty. I kick the toe of my boot into the dirt at my feet and intensely watch the dust fly off. “My friend, shoot. I am all ears.” My lungs feel like they’re about to explode. With a heavy breath from my nose, I snap my eyes to his.  
“How do I face him?” I shake my head and near him quickly. “How do I face anyone?” Zevran watches me, and then shrugs, turning to continue to walk down the road. I slowly follow, watching him desperately, examining every movement he makes. His arms swing at his side while he takes playful steps and turns his eyes up to the sky.  
“Proudly.” He curtly says with a firm nod of his head. “You didn’t abandon your post; you just didn’t attend those prissy parties or take tea.” I shake my head. I can’t imagine it’d be that easy to just waltz into the palace as if I wasn't basically a myth for ten years. Zevran snatches up a fallen stick in the middle of the road and examines it as if he’d find silvers hanging from it.  
“But…”  
“What have you done wrong?” My mouth snaps shut. I’ve done a lot wrong! My mind and chest tighten with the desire to say everything that I’ve done wrong since my betrothal… But my mouth couldn’t figure out how to tell him. “Truth be told, if I were you, I would have told each and everyone of them to die off!” From over his shoulder Zevran offers a sheepish smile with a sort of apology pouring from his eye in a mischievous sparkle, and quickly adds, “I already told Alistair to do that many years gone.” I purse my lips in curiosity.  
“Why?”  
“He was too harsh to you. I wouldn’t stand for my beautiful gray warden to be ridiculed by a man so!” He shrugs and tosses the stick in his hands away, Abu barking and chasing after it. “I was quite angry with him. Such behavior! It was terrible.” He concludes in a quick breath.  
“Oh…” Is all I can quietly answer. I inhale the cold air deeply, squinting to see in the sunlight piercing my eyes. I let a distracted smile wiggle onto my lips. “It feels like the morning you and I met.” I idly mumble. Was Alistair terrible when he left me? Perhaps I was just as terrible… Perhaps… Just maybe… I made a mistake when I first thought that Alistair was different then the rest of the humans.  
_  
It was hard to navigate Ostagar when I first got there. Finding a human named Alistair proved to be harder than I had imagined; what kind of human was named Alistair? Did he have brown hair or red hair? Was he tall or short? Quiet or obnoxious? I talked to almost every human I could find – finding all other gray wardens before the one I was looking for – and had given up trying to find him for the night. I looked for a place to hide from all the humans. Maybe somewhere to wash out the blood in my hair, somewhere without a fire, somewhere I could curl up and let my body rest. The quietest side of Ostagar, just past the mages tents, was where I found myself.  
The laughter was much quieter over there... It allowed me to acknowledge the chaos in my chest. I may have known how to wield a sword, many men may have called me lethal – a witch and undesirable – but before the incident with Vaughn, I had never killed a thing in my life. The ring I’d taken from off of Nelaros’ body was being rolled between my fingers, the cold gold bringing his lifeless eyes into my mind. He said that he was going to protect me, – if I had been a better person I would’ve noticed the depth of his brown eyes, the sincerity puddling in them – and I let him believe that he needed to… Why? Why didn’t I tell him the truth, why didn’t I explain that I didn’t need to be protected? I wacked away the tear on my cheek; my heart and gut were doing flips, being strangled by invisible fingers.  
I remember thinking, as I stopped to force away the sob on my lips, that it was nice to know that somebody protected me. Reserved to the thought that I would never have something like that again, I slipped the ring on. The sound of a mage barking at a soldier brought me back down to the ground. I looked to my right, and saw him for the first time.  
Golden hair in the sun, warm and bright. A laugh that spoke of comfort, familiarity, bond; a smile that demanded everyone’s attention. Blue eyes that were clear, an open door for me to walk into, to be lost in. I approached those two humans without much of a thought. That blond human had quite a different air from the rest. He was colorful, warm, and unlike the other soldiers at the camp, he was alive. I watched how he rolled onto his heels when he chuckled, how his body spoke with his words…  
That, I thought, was the type of human that would be named Alistair. His eyes trained on me after the mage stormed off, and for a second, his smile disappeared; he drank me in slowly. Suddenly I was aware of my ears, my hand raised slightly to cover my ears, but I stopped myself short; how could I hide that? His smile pulled at his lips again, he took a long step toward me, and then he said his first words to me:  
“You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together.”  
I didn’t know what he meant by that until the end. Not until I was leaving those dark halls in the middle of the night, did I stop to realize how many wonderful people the Blight gave me… How the Blight brought him and I together. At the time, I hated that I ever stepped foot into Ostagar.  
All my blessings be damned, I was so sodding angry that the Maker made me meet him.


	3. Chapter 3

When I left Denerim, it was midnight, and the moon was high in the sky. I stopped at these gates and gave the city one last, sorrowful look. The shabby, boarded roofs, the large tent in the marketplace, even the nauseating smell of incense that wafted from the chantry; I thought that I would’ve missed all of it. After all, I was leaving everything I ever cared about behind in Denerim.  
My eyes wash over the city; this place is entirely foreign to me now. The cracked, ugly crème walls have been replaced by fine cobblestone, the grass is green, streetlights are strung from building to building. A huff of breath tumbles from me with a short lived smile playing onto my lips. Alistair has done wonderfully. It’s a bittersweet thought; I never doubted him as king. I continue through the crowd, watching the faces walking past me. Gaunt cheeks are not so common, clothes are not torn; everyone looks so… healthy. The market is loud, vendors shouting their deals, noble women bartering, men laughing, children running and playing. The number of vendors has doubled… Trade must be booming.   
I stop outside of what used to be Goldanna’s home, watching the cute sign swaying in the soft breeze outside of her shop. In beautiful silver script reads “Goldanna’s Launder”. I smile and look down to my feet. She survived… The burning behind my eyes is blinked away quickly as I place my hands on my hips and nod, bringing my eyes back to the sign. Good.  
I decide to take a walk through the alienage; Shianni would be livid with me if I came back to Denerim and didn’t stop in. On my way, I notice the large open gate to Arl Eamon’s estate. I stop in my tracks, staring into the courtyard. I’ve not stepped foot into that estate since I left for the landsmeet.  
_  
A strong claim to the throne… Those words echoed in my head. I don’t even think that I heard what Arl Eamon said after that. I wasn’t listening. I was lost in the dread that locked my arms by my side and made my legs tremble beneath me. My tongue was in a knot in my mouth, my throat burning and dry. My heart raced in my chest, and yet I felt that it had stopped…  
The entire world had stopped.  
My wide, irritated eyes pushed up to Arl Eamon. I didn’t try to hide the shock, the dread, that permeated from my expression. My slack brows, red hair tumbling in front of my face, lips parted, trembling slightly.  
“You…” My voice was quiet, raspy, “Intend to put Alistair forth?” I swallowed thickly, it felt like there were rocks stuck in my throat, cutting and pushing themselves farther down… “As the… King?” My eyes darted all over Eamon’s face, searching for any sign that he was bluffing.  
“Bann Teagan and I could claim the throne, but it would be deemed ambitious… Some would believe us to be taking advantage of the unrest for power…” No… I knew that. I knew that! But every inch of my body wanted nothing more than for him to say that Alistair couldn’t sit on the throne. “Alistair has a direct claim, through blood. No one could argue with that.” I knew that… From the very beginning, I knew that. I looked to Alistair and watched him try and reason.  
“Do I not get a say in this?” His eyes broke from mine to look at Eamon. His breaths were heavy, hands clenched at his side. Eamon said something about duty to Alistair, I wasn’t sure, I didn’t listen. I could only focus on Alistair.  
Suddenly in that moment, I remembered what Wynne had said to me just weeks before. When duty calls, what would I do? I blinked and glanced to Wynne with wide eyes. Slanted brows and deep eyes, mouth in a frown; Wynne knew exactly what turmoil lay in my head…  
“Are there… No other options?” I took a deep breath and clenched my jaw, returning my attention to the arl. The older man shook his head and shrugged, beginning a slow pace in front of the stone fireplace. I watched the fire; it felt so much warmer than it did twenty minutes ago.  
“We could fight a civil war with Loghain and his men… But we would risk using resources we desperately need for the Blight.” My heart plummeted. I wanted nothing more than to be selfish. To scream and have the world fight a war just for my own happiness. I shook my head.  
“I understand.” I began to turn away, “Call the Landsmeet, Arl Eamon.” I began a slow walk towards the door; where was I going to go? I knew I had much more business to deal with that night, but my legs simply began to move me out of the castle.  
“Etheria?” Alistair gently called. His voice was wet with concern, soft with fear. I stopped; my hand was white knuckled on the door handle.  
“Please, I’m tired. May I rest…” I drew my eyes up to Alistair’s, tears fresh on the rim, threatening to fall over, “For the night?”  
_  
I shake my head. That night was when I realized that I was going to loose Alistair, no matter how desperately I wanted to cling onto him. I think he knew too, but we both foolishly ignored it until the last possible second. It's been ten years, and remembering that time still makes my mouth dry up, still feels like a punch to the gut. I shoot a hateful, venomous glare to the estate gates; the only things that Arl Eamon’s estate can bring me are bad memories. Dreadful, gut wrenching memories. I begin a fast walk away from those gates like the darkspawn could rise at any second, happily putting distance between myself and those memories. Past Brother Genativi’s home, and over the bridge to the alienage, I stop and eye the state of the alienage…  
King Alistair knows how to keep his word, it seems. I continue on my way through the refurbished alienage, admiring that there no longer was trash on the streets, buildings and homes were proper, roofs without holes, laughter… This is how it always should’ve been… Being here makes it a little hard to regret giving Alistair to the throne, I think.  
“Now there’s a face I didn’t think I’d ever see again.” I stop and pull my eyes from the green leaves of the large tree in the center of the alienage. Her familiar voice was light, friendly, safe. I smile widely; my dear Shianni. “Welcome home, Cousin.” She softly smiles, her hand laying on her stomach. With a laugh I exclaim with raw excitement:  
“Shianni! You’re with child!” She laughs, holding her arms out for a hug, which I gladly accept. “Oh, how I’ve missed you!” I softly say. Her hand pats my back – in such a motherly way – before she grabs my shoulders and pushes me back.  
“And I you, Etheria.” She looks me from head to toe, her lips folding in disappointment, she clicks her tongue and shakes her head, “You’ve lost weight. Quick, come home and have dinner. The other’s are eager to meet you.”  
“The others?”  
“Much has changed in ten years, cousin. Quickly, I will tell you everything.” She guides me through the town, being stopped many times to say hello to familiar faces; my stomach hardens as I realize just how much everyone has changed.  
“Dear! We have a guest!” She calls as she removes my cloak and hangs it. It’s beautifully furnished, I spin to look at the flowers, the rugs, the cushioned chairs and furs in her home…  
“Who is this?” Someone asks, standing in the archway to the next room. I turn to look at the elven man, dark hair, and kind black eyes. I offer an unsure smile, and look to Shianni, who’s busied herself with fussing over the “horrendous” state of my cloak.  
“Ah… Well, hello.” I shyly begin, nearing him and rubbing my hands together. “I’m Etheria Tabris…” I flick my head toward Shianni, “Her cousin.” I offer my hand to him, which he gleefully grabs and shakes with a lot of enthusiasm.  
“The Hero of Fereldan!” He yelps. “Boy, when Shianni first told me about you, I didn’t believe her.” I grin. “But here you are, in the flesh!” I nod. “My name is Nelriel.”  
“Here I am.” I sigh. “Where are you from, friend?” I ask him as he guides me to the table.  
“Highever.” I smile to him, “Shianni and I met four years ago, in the marketplace.” I stop as we enter the dining room. Nelriel continues around the table and rests his hands on the back of two occupied chairs. “I’m grateful to you, Warden. Shianni told me that you saved her life every time she needed saving… And because of that,” His hand smacks atop a curly mop of red hair, “I have my family.” A tear slips down my cheek. I wave gently to the awestruck faces watching me.  
“Hello. I’m Etheria.” Joyful screeches, hard on the ear, I haven’t spent much time around energetic children in my life, erupt from them as they bound to me and latch onto my arms.  
“Can I hold your sword?” The girl questions.  
“Can I have your sword?” The other asks urgently. I let out a wet laugh, sniffing and wiping my cheek.  
“It just may be too heavy for you yet.” They both whine in disappointment. “Maybe I’ll show you a few tricks after dinner?” I look to Shianni and grin.  
“Your home and family is beautiful, Shianni. I couldn’t be more happy for you and Nelriel.” I comment. She nods.  
“King Alistair has been good and fair to us elves.” Nelriel comments as he settles the girls back into their seats. “Some would think that the rumors are true.” He babbles. I raise a brow as I wash the dirt off my hands.  
“Rumors?” I question.  
“Oh yeah.” He hands me a wash rag and I smile thankfully to him. “Some said that before the king was crowned, he was in love with an elven woman. Some servants said they saw them together at Arl Eamon’s estate, just before the landsmeet.” My hands stop, and I slowly sit the cloth down. I glance to Shianni, eying her worried expression. I can’t help it. Curiosity gets the best of me.  
“Oh? And what does the king say to that?” I sit quietly down at the table and watch Nelriel for his answer. He sits down and shrugs.  
“Hasn’t responded to it.” He sighs and turns his gaze to me with a short smile, “must not have time to worry about such petty rumors.” I nod and smile to Shianni, who places food onto my plate. “I don’t much believe them. I mean, a human noble, in love with an elf? Our king may be good as any man but I don’t think any human could truly love an elf…” Nelriel lets out a laugh. “Though it makes for good gossip, ill-“  
“Nelriel! Dear,” Shianni’s voice has a sort of warning in it, “I forgot to feed the dog… Could you run him some food?” Nelriel watches her for a moment before standing and leaving without a word. Shianni looks to me, worry cracking through her hard expression. “I’m sorry, Etheria… He doesn’t know…” I rest my hands on the table and look to her with a rehearsed smile.  
“Don’t worry, Shianni. I’m entirely over it.” I shrug and look around the house. “We have much more important matters to discuss.” I look to the two girls giggling at the other side of the table. “I want to know these girls’ weapon of choice.”  
“The sword!” One cries gloriously while throwing her fork into the air, food dripping onto her lap. Shianni snaps her tongue and quickly cleans it up, scolding her daughter gently. I smile.  
_  
“You what?” He yelled as he marched away from me, back toward his bed. I folded my arms in front of me, over my stomach; Maker, I felt like I was going to throw up. “You want me to…” He shakes his head, his hands flailing about, “To have a child with Morrigan?” I tried to keep his eyes, but he was seething. Those blue eyes, once so clear and gentle, were overflowing with rage. “What is this? Revenge on me?” I shook my head.  
“No… Alistair. I…” I couldn’t believe I was actually asking that of him… I drew my eyes back to him; I just wanted both of us to survive… Selfishly, I wanted to survive. “I wa-“  
“What does she intend to do with the child? Is she going to use it as a claim to the throne later?” My mouth opened and closed as I searched for the right words to say.  
“She said she would disappear with the child after everything is said and done. You would never see him.” I looked away and rubbed my arms. “I just thought it would be a good alternative… To dying.” I sighed. I shook my head, nearly reserved to my fate; I was the only one that could deal that blow the next day.  
I was going to die… Perhaps it was for the best. I heard a frustrated growl come from the new king, and some shuffled movements.  
“Etheria… Even if I was to consider doing this – and I’m not saying I am – would you really want me to do that? Would you…” I listened to a deep breath leave him. “Would you be okay with that?” Just outside of his door, in the hallway, I stopped. I had to be okay with it. I had to be okay with him marrying another woman. I had to be okay that he couldn’t be with me anymore because of what I did. I had to be okay with the fact that I could never marry the man I love, I could never have children, I could never hope for a peaceful death. I turned over my shoulder:  
“I have to be okay with a lot of things Alistair…. What’s one more?”  
_  
“Right away ma’am.” The soldier is breathless, unsure, red cheeked. “Right away ma’am.” I smile to him as he stumbles away, wide eyes and mouth parted in shock. I turn away from the opening door, wringing my worn leather gloves between my hands ruthlessly. To say I’m nervous is an understatement.  
I feel like I’m about to meet the Maker himself. I feel like the end of the world is coming. I feel like a thirteen-year-old girl about to meet her crush and tell him that she is unconditionally in love with him. I feel vulnerable, and scared, and just a little bit angry.  
What if Alistair has forgotten about me already? What if he is still angry? What if he has found someone else to fall in love with? What if he no longer cares about me? My mind is in chaos. I feel like my brain is having a Blight of it’s very own up there. I begin to pace. Am I ready to face him? What will I say? What if he asks me if I still love him? Do I lie? Do I tell the truth?  
I should go… I shouldn’t be here. My feet start to carry me across the stone floors, away from the room and its king, but I stop short… Why am I running away? I clench my jaw and hang my head; there is nothing to run away from…   
That’s right. There is nothing here for me. There is nothing between him and I. I steel myself and take a deep breath. I close my eyes and nod. That’s right.  
He is the King of Ferelden. I am the Hero of Ferelden. It’s only natural we meet on business. It’s only natural that there is nothing between us. I take another deep breath and stretch my fingers at my side. I am just another elven woman. He is just another human man. Another deep breath. He is just the king… I hear nearing footsteps… He is just the king.  
I take a deep breath. The door sounds as if it is slammed open, and footsteps slowly – hesitantly – enter the room. I take another deep breath.  
He is just the king.  
“King Alistair, and Queen Anora.” The guard announces loudly. One more deep breath. My muted white eyes open.  
I am just a woman who is doomed to die...  
I inhale deeply and turn around, my eyes latched to the ground. I push my hood down, my red hair fumbling messily out, tapping at my waist. I draw my eyes up slowly.  
Crystal clear blue eyes stare at me, wide, glazed over slightly. His pink lips are parted slightly, his hands at his side, releasing from clenched fists. His eyes are much clearer than when I left them last. He has grown, and aged beautifully. His blond hair is a little longer, face freshly shaved. I take a little bit of comfort in the way his eyes are meeting mine so clearly; at least he doesn’t seem angry. His chest rises and falls quickly.  
I smile, “Your majesty,” I stop and consider what to say, “It’s an honor, to see you again.” I look to the woman beside him – still beautiful and noble as ever – and my smile faulters.  
_  
I could never understand why… Why were humans so brutal? So... Disgusting? So twisted to think up that sort of torture? I was in agony for hours, but I never learned why. I couldn’t remember what they wanted from me – Maker, I barely even understood what they were saying to me – because I was so delirious with pain. I’d endured much pain before Fort Drakon, but that time, it was not within my power to stop it. The only thing I could do was endure.  
When I woke up in that cell, Alistair had me cradled to his warm chest. My bloodied hand instantly found his cheek, wet with tears, and then I had come to. I painfully examined his own wounds, making sure that he’d survive through the night.  
“Thank the Maker you’re okay.” He whispered, his hand brushing the hair from my eyes. I smiled.  
“I’m okay.” I nodded and looked around the empty cell. The sounds of screaming was incessant, cursing and yelling came from other cells. I wanted to throw up, but the only thing I could do was push myself closer to Alistair. What sort of hell hole were we taken to? I wanted to cry and scream and run away. “Are you okay?” I asked, returning my gaze to him.  
“I’m fine, but the sooner we’re rid of this place, the better I’ll be.” He says. “Do we have a plan to get out of here?” I shook my head, and looked to my bruised and wrist.  
“I don’t think I’m in much shape to fight off enough guards for us to get out of here.” I whispered. Alistairs warm, calloused hand guided my eyes back to his.  
“I’m okay enough. If you stay behind me I can get us out.” I shook my head.  
“No, you’re not. Your leg looks worse than Oghren dancing to Zevran’s drunken lute playing.” He chuckled, a welcome comfort. “We can count on Zevran and Leliana coming for us.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Zevran is a loyal man. He’ll come.” Alistair nodded.  
“I hope you’re right.” His arms tightened around me.  
_  
I rub my wrist while watching Anora, and shake the cloud from around my head quickly… What was I saying? I glance to Alistair, who watches my hand message my wrist. I clear my throat and walk to them. I hope I don’t look as weak as I feel. I feel like my legs could come out from under me at any second. I feel like I could collapse and die from the taint at any second…  
“I was told that there were some issues regarding my absence, so I returned as soon as I could. I’m sorry for any trouble I’ve caused.” I bow to them quickly.  
“Nonsense my friend!” Anora calls, nearing me. “We understand you’ve a duty to attend to. Whatever it may be, the king and I will remain loyal to you.” Loyal… I smile bitterly and look to Alistair. Yes… Loyal.  
“Thank you, your majesty.” Alistair’s mouth opens and closes as he watches me, his eyes becoming more and more irritated.  
“I should call a landsmeet, to dispel any more doubt around your absence. If you’ll excuse me I’ll get to it directly!” The Queen takes off quickly.  
“Thank you.” I quietly call to her. I return my attention to Alistair. His slack brow and reddening eyes have me shifting my weight from foot to foot. “Are you alright, your majesty?” I ask. Alistair blinks quickly and clears his throat.  
“Where…” His beautiful voice – once one of the most comforting things to me – is the same as it was before, quiet and gentle, “Where were you, Etheria?” He breathes. I watch him, casting my gaze down to my hands.  
“I have been running, your majesty.”  
“Alistair!” He says loudly. “Call me Alistair, please… All this formality…” He shuffles on his feet, looks around the room, and clasps his hands behind his back. “It’s… unnatural.” I smile, getting lost in his gaze again.  
“Very well," I pause while he takes his time looking back to me, "Alistair.”


	4. Chapter 4

I hated it there. No one could convince me otherwise. No matter how often Leliana tried to remind me that even the smallest things were charming. It wasn’t determination and tolerance in the dwarves, it was hot and humid. It wasn’t beautiful architecture or fascinating detail; it was small and confining. I was – am – shamefully claustrophobic. I marched up the steps to the dwarven city with my stomach rolling and cheeks paling; I was facing another dreadful day, and quite possibly would be beginning my track into the deep roads.  
I was lightheaded, dreadfully clinging to the railing of the staircase leading to the “beautiful” and “large” bronze doors to Orzammar. I take a large gulp of air, trying to ignore the fact that it felt like my airways were the size of a twig; Maker, why couldn’t the others just take care of this round of conscripting? I took care of the circle and the Dalish, can’t Alistair take the lead? A cold hand was placed gently onto the clammy skin of my forehead.  
“Child, you fret too much.” I shook my head frantically at Wynne, my stomach churning in yet another fit of protest. “Think lightly of the road ahead.” She begins gently. She kept telling me that it was all going to be okay, that it would be just like walking in the Brecilian Forest… Brecilian Forest, my foot! Would she be able to tell me that when the earth caves in and traps us until we starve to death or worse… Suffocate? I groaned and laid my head down. I frantically flipped around; I needed to restart. Orzammar could wait one more hour.  
“I know you hate it under ground, Etheria, but perhaps we go and talk with Bhalen first, take a break, and then go from there?” Alistair reasoned, lightly grabbing hold of my shoulders. My eyes snapped to his, my skin layered lightly in sweat. I cleared my throat and swallowed.  
“Only one hour?” I questioned softly. He smiled brightly down to me, causing my chest to heat up even more, and nodded.  
“One hour, and you’ll see the sky again.” I sucked in a huge breath and nodded.  
“Okay…” I turned around and yanked open the top few buttons of my undershirt, then rolled my sleeves up. I stomped up the stairs again, ignoring Alistair’s chuckle, and Leliana’s wide grin and wiggling brows. My cheeks had taken a rosy color – because it was hot, not because of Alistair as everyone else seemed to insist – and despite the frustration building in my chest, a small smile grew on my lips. I snapped around to look at him again, pointing my finger at him, “But if I die in here by cave in or lack of fresh air, I’ll find you in the fade!” He surrendered his hands with a grin on those beautiful lips. At that I marched with a determination to the doors that would frighten any man – hell, maybe even the archdemon – out of my way.  
“So…” I hear Alistair begin, “Leliana… You’re… A girl, right?” My brows pinched together and my head tilted, but I continued on through the doors to the endless pit that was Orzammar; it wasn’t the weirdest thing that Alistair’s ever said.  
“I am? Oh!” The red head exclaimed, earning a soft, reluctant laugh from me. “When did that happen?” Wynne interjected and told her to stop teasing Alistair, but she continued, “That is news to me!” I shot a glance back to Alistair, a grin firm on my lips. He quickly tore his gaze from me and stopped, pulling at the collar of his armor. A cough and exaggerated sigh fell from his lips along with a smile. With his hand on his hip and hand being pushed through his hair, he shot a glare that could kill towards Leliana.  
“Oh, I get it… Just…” His blue eyes darted toward me, “Just forget I asked, okay?”  
“I’m a girl too, Alistair…” I said, as I waited for the three to catch up to me, “I can help too?”  
“No!” He yelped before he slapped his hand over his mouth. “No, it’s okay. I didn’t mean, i-“ A defeated sigh left him. I pursed my lips and turned away. My hair was getting stuck to my neck and making my mood more foul than Morrigan’s sense of humor, so I yanked it over my shoulder and started to fan myself.  
“What’s on your mind?” Leliana asked him, striding next to him with her arms behind her back. After a minute of silence, Alistair spoke.  
“I was hoping to ask for a little advice…” Leliana hummed, “What should someone do if they find a woman special… And they want to…”  
“Woo her?” I stopped in my tracks and shot my gaze back to them. Alistair’s face was red as a strawberry. I shot my gaze to Leliana… Did he love Leliana? My eyes looked to Wynne; not Wynne right? She had a charming personality but was he into older women? Oh Maker! My eyes rolled back to Alistair; was it Morrigan? Horror rolled through me like spiders on my skin. A nervous laugh fell from Alistair when his eye caught me staring at them with wide eyes. He stopped and snapped his mouth shut. I urged him to answer with wide eyes.  
“Well, yes…” It was easy enough to ignore Leliana’s teasing grin or Wynne’s interested humming and lecturing.  
“For starters, don’t question her feminine-ness.” Another over the top laugh came from the warden as he placed a hand to the back of his neck. He turned his gaze out to the large statue of the late king.  
“Ah… Yeah, that makes…” I watched his breath squeeze from him, “Sense…”  
“Why? Are you afraid things will not progress naturally?” Leliana tried to lean into his view, my stomach sunk further, finally noticing how close they were.  
“Why would they?” He cried as his arms flailed about. “When I say things like asking if you’re a woman or not?” A frown found itself onto my lips as I turned away… I, for one, found it absolutely adorable. It made my chest warm, fuzzy, on the verge of exploding with a scream at how adorable he was. It was funny, and I loved him for it.  
“It’s a part of your charm!” She laughed and they started to follow me again. “You may be a little awkward sometimes, but it is a part of your charm…”  
“You just told me not to do that!” He countered with a little bit of sourness in his tone.  
“Just be yourself, Alistair. You can do that, right?” He grumbled back to her.  
“Yeah, just forget I asked.” I smiled softly to myself… Even Alistair could fall in love. I was so curious about who it was; it distracted me for the rest of the day.  
_  
“The city looks wonderful.” I’ve been trying to fill the silence between us desperately while we sat in his study. I pull my hands from the corner of the book they’ve been fiddling with since I decided I was comfortable enough to sit down… Or maybe I was too uncomfortable to stand… Oh, I don’t know! He nods and itches his nose. “I saw that Goldanna’s laundry service is doing well…” I lean forward, trying to get his eyes to acknowledge that I’m here… Some part of me thinks that him ignoring me like this is much worse than him being angry at me. “Have you been able to reconnect with her?”  
Alistair lifts his head for just a second – it looks like his stomach might be bothering him, because it seems like he’s curling in on himself while sitting in that red cushioned chair – before smiling and letting it fall again. I look to the small trinket in his hand, which is what he’s decided to use to keep himself busy. His head shakes after a second.  
“No.” He’s so quiet I barely hear him. I swallow, and let my features fall in worry; what is bothering him so much? “I’ve made sure that her family is well taken care of… But…” He shakes his head and sits the trinket on his heavy oak desk before leaning back in his chair, then continues with a heavy sigh, “I don’t know… I just can’t trust her after the way she treated us when we first met her.” I nod and let my features relax a little… I guess it must be bothering him that his only family is basically estranged from him until she needs money. I smile softly.  
“I understand.” I roll my tongue in my mouth and wipe my palms on the blue fabric of my armor. I adjust in my seat, and hear the clink of metal in my pouch… Oh, yes! “Ah!” I exclaim, a small smile pushing onto my lips. “I found this a while back while revisiting Ostagar.” I say softly and dig through my pack. It’s mostly herbs and scrap papers stuffed in there, along with one precious trinket. I bring out the silver chalice and eye the small griffon on the side, and simple blue jewels around the neck. I slowly offer it to him with an unsure glance. Who knows if he even wants something like this, considering he’s not actively participating in the order any longer… But it’s something I’d always wanted to give him.  
“The Joining Chalice.” He sighs while taking it from me. I smile and nod.  
“I want you to have it.” His eyes dart to mine. “A small momento… Of the time you saved the world with the rest of us… Your majesty.” I sniff and rub my eye lazily. He shakes his head and offers it back to me.  
“I couldn’t. The order needs it to bring more recruits in.” I stop his hands with mine on top of his; his fingers are warm, just like the last time I held them.  
“We have a new one. Since we didn’t have this one at the beginning, I made a new one.” I push it towards him again. “Keep it, please.” He smiles, but it looks more like he’s trying to hold back a sob. He drops it into his lap and traces his thumb over the insignia on it.  
“Did you find anything… About the taint?” He asks. The curve of my lip falls into a straight line and my eyes fall to my own calloused hands. I lean back in my chair and shake my head; how do I tell him?  
_  
She walked slowly through the snow. A blizzard was going to hit soon, and it seemed she was stocking up on food and wood to get her through it. She was bundled up well, but no matter how many layers she kept on, she couldn’t hide the bump. She was far along… I pulled my hood farther down to try and hide my face from the harsh wind biting at it.  
I figured that if anyone knew how to prevent the taint from claiming our lives, it would be Morrigan. She was the one with Flemeth’s grimoire. Hell, I didn’t know anything about that woman, but I knew she had secrets… And maybe my answer was among them.  
I stood to move toward her but stopped short. I placed my hand onto the rough back of the tree I was hidden behind… I promised her I wouldn’t track her down… Was it selfish of me to do that? My heart buzzed painfully in my chest. She was all alone again. Out here in this freezing cold, alone and with child, soon to give birth with no one at her side. I let out a heavy breath and shook my head.  
“She is there, love… Why do you wait?” A voice said from behind me. I turned slightly to eye the elf, and crouched back down.  
“It isn’t right.” I whispered, tears biting at my eyes. “I knew what I was doing when I drank the blood.” Gloved hands wrapped onto my own and urged my own white eyes to meet chocolate orbs.  
“No one told you of all that you were giving up.” I shook my head.  
“I had already planned to die that day at Ostagar.” I watched his shoulders slouch and his head hang.  
“Why do you punish yourself?” He questioned with strain in his voice. I swallowed and searched for the correct way to tell him. “Is it because of Alistair or because of the lord you killed?” My tongue felt like it had been ripped out… I didn’t know how to tell him the truth. He was quiet as he examined the tremble of my lip and the irregularity of my breath. “Have you already come to terms with your end?” His voice was hoarse. My head fell and I lost balance, my knees falling into the cold snow. I rested my head against his chest and shook my head; tears were warm on my cheek and melting the snow, but eventually froze over.  
“I… I don’t know…”  
“Your chance at the life you dreamed of is right there my dear!” He exclaimed as he wrapped his arms around me to hug me. “Go to Morrigan, ask her your questions and then promise that you will never look back to this side of the mountain again! You are not wrong for wanting to live! I was not wrong when I chose to live, and you never will be either!”  
“Zevran…” I began, I held his hand tightly. “Let us go. I promised her.”  
“Yes, you did promise me.” Was groaned from behind us. My back was rigid within seconds, and I stared up at Morrigan regretfully. “Dear lord, what has happened to you friend?” She sighed. The sympathy - no, pity - in her eye put more shame into my heart; I was surprised that there was enough room for it.  
“Morrigan, I… We were just leaving. Pretend you didn’t see us and we will do the same.” She shook her head and offered me her hand.  
“No. Come. Sit with me, I will answer your questions.” I tried to smile through my sob, but it was a pitiful attempt. She walked us to her small and modest cottage; it was perfect… I was admittedly jealous that she got to live so freely out there. She offered me and Zevran a hot bowl of stew and sat patiently at the table with us.  
“Why are you not eating?” She asked.  
“I’m not too hungry.” I whispered to her while stirring the soup.  
“Oh just eat the stew already!” She snapped. I couldn’t ignore her command; I'd forgotten how terrifying she could be when I was in moods where my appetite was so meager. I took a bite hesitantly. “You’ve come to ask me about the taint, yes?” She asked before she stood and waddled towards a shabby bookshelf in the corner of the room. Zevran nodded.  
“Observant as always Morrigan, that’s what I loved about you-“  
“Can it.” She snapped with hard yellow eyes shooting daggers at Zevran but softening when they turned to me. “I looked into it, and the answer is yes, we can fix the taint…” The spoon fell from my hand. I couldn’t believe it! It felt like the Maker finally took his hands away from my throat. I could breathe. “I wrote the instructions here, in case you ever did find me. I won’t help you with the ritual, but I’m sure you can find any friendly maleficar to help you with it.” She said as she sat down. I eyed the scroll like it was Andraste’s ashes.  
“This… Will fix it?” Morrigan nodded with a soft – very sincere – smile breaking onto her lips.  
“Yes… It will.” I smiled and looked to Zevran.  
“Will… The effects,” His hands waved over my body, “on her body be lifted?”  
“What? As in, will she have children or will she not grow four more arms?” Morrigan sassed. “Yes, you will be able to have children.”  
_  
“I…” An awkward smile flitters over my lips. Come on… Just tell him the truth. “No… I didn’t.”  
“Then, you’ll leave again soon? To keep looking?” Alistair softly asks. He swallows and rests his hands on top of his desk, slowly running his gaze to mine. I shake my head and shrug.  
“Perhaps we are not meant to fix the taint.” I whisper. Confusion blends into Alistiar’s expression.  
“What do you mean?” He stops and waits for an answer, but I don’t much have one. He scooches toward me. “I thought you wanted to find the cure… To fix it for…” He stops. The last letter I wrote to him before I left, I mentioned that I wanted to fix the taint within us… So we could realize the dreams we had together; that was before the crown fell onto his head and we drifted apart.  
“Alistair… I have come to terms with how my life has played out.” A lie. “I’ve accepted that I am fated to die soon, and that my memory will die with myself. I see no need to spend the precious time that I have left chasing theories.” His eyes fall yet again.  
“So… You have given up?” His voice is hoarse. Confused. He shakes his head. “What about… What about what you said to me?” He stands and paces to the large window that’s been pouring in fading sunlight. “What about that letter?” I blink several times at the anger bubbling in his blue eyes. It’s not like the time he left me… No, this time it feels like it’s out of sadness… Out of heartbreak. My chest tightens and hands tremble.  
“That letter was written long ago when I thought you could still find a way past your crown.”  
“Do you believe I can’t anymore?” He cries. My wide eyes shoot to his. “Is that all you see me for now?” His eyes are red, his hands on his hips and chest falling and rising rapidly. He shakes his head and rubs his hand over his mouth then his eyes. Alistair has always been open with his emotions towards me. He’s always shown how gentle he can be, how soft he can be; he never withheld emotions from me… But I’ve never seen him cry.  
“Alistair…” I whisper. I stand and walk around the desk, forgetting myself for a second. All I care about is helping him, is wiping the tears from his eyes before the spill over. “You know that I have known you for much more than that… But I cannot ignore it.”  
“Why?” He asks.  
“You said it yourself, Alistair.” His eyes open and look to mine. “We have to face what it means.” That line felt like a knife in my heart… When he first said it and even now when I’m saying it. I smile softly, forcing it over the quiver in my lip, and take his hands into mine. “You are an amazing king. I have seen it today.” I nod firmly. “I should have it no other way.” I squeeze his hands firmly and then let them go.  
“I should go.” I back around the table, trying my best to ignore the panic that washes over his face. “I’d like to get a room at the inn before they’re all sold out. Else I’ll have to join Zevran at the Pearl.” I watch the heavy frown that crosses Alistair’s lips.  
“Absolutely not! I can’t let you stay with him…” The blonde stops, shakes his head, and then brings his hand to rub his temple. “Stay at the Pearl, I mean.” I chuckle. “Stay here at the castle, you’re my guest.” I shake my head and wave my hands at him.  
“I couldn’t. I’m not much for fancy rooms or silks. I’ll feel much more comfortable at the inn." I start to push the door open but startle when the guard just outside the door opens it the rest of the way. I smile and stop in the hallway, examining his features. The look he’s giving me is breaking my heart all over again. He looks like a kicked puppy. Blue eyes watery, begging me to stay, eyebrows slanted downward, mouth parted and hands held out toward me. “It was good to see you Alistair. I’ll see you in the morning…”  
“This way, My Lady.” The guard bows and holds his hand out towards the end of the hall.  
I follow the guard out of the palace gates and nod. Thanking him for guiding me all the way out there. He holds a lantern out to me and urges me to take it.  
“The king insists you take the lantern to light your way to the inn. City may be beautiful but still has its’ creeps and drunks out at night.” I smile and take it from him. “You have a safe trip and good night now, ‘kay, miss?”  
“Yes, thank you.” I lift the lantern and eye the small candle inside. Such a small flame, but it illuminates nearly the whole road…  
_  
Ash drifted around the room, and then was sucked out the window. I watched it like those embers were the night sky. I lazily let my swollen eyes fall back to the parchment in my hand. The red ate away at it.  
I’d always found fire so fascinating. Its’ warmth was welcome, but too much of it would burn you. It’ll chase away the dark, but is easy enough to blow out. Water can kill it and it will only hiss, but feed it paper and it will cackle.  
“Etheria!” Zevran stumbled across the room, snatched the scroll from my hand, and stomped it out. I stared at the last small piece of ember falling to the ground from the window of the second floor room. “What did you do?” He yelled. I was cold. I then turned my attention to the moon, admiring how cold its’ light was. I wondered if the moon felt weightless. Did she know she was bright, but she brought no one warmth? As I did?  
If the moon felt the same way I did, I wanted to talk with her to see if she could tell me the secret to being weightless.  
Warm hands on my cheeks redirect my attention from the moon, down to tearful brown eyes. I’ve not seen Zevran cry much, but he did that night.  
“My love, why did you do that?” He asked gently that time. My eyes remained wide and dry; I had no more tears to cry that night. “Why did you do that?” He repeated, pushing the red strands from my face. “Etheria, please, talk to me?” He brought his forehead to touch mine. “Why did you burn it?” He whispered through his quiet sobs. He hugged me tightly, and I rested my head on his shoulder, casting my gaze back to the moon once again.  
“Zevran…” I began in a cracked voice – I had spoken so little that day – “Do you think the moon feels light?”  
“What?” The elf’s hands pushed me gently by my shoulders so he could see my blank expression.  
“Does the moon feel weightless?” I asked. His eyes turned to look at the moon, and I did as well.  
“I can’t imagine it does.” Zevran swallowed and rubbed my arms. “She must be cold and alone up there. Bright and lighting the way for many, and holding the waters down… She has to feel very heavy.” I smiled as my eyes began to burn again. My lids fluttered to shoo away the tears.  
Me and the moon, I decided, must’ve been very much alike.

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonng be a short series centered around how I imagine my Warden handling the events that happened in game. It's going to be heavy in a lot of angst and edgy, sad thoughts. I'm writing this to get myself back into writing after a long rut of writers block, so it's probably going to be real bad since I'm trying to keep my editing and analyzing to a min. Please enjoy if you've read this far, and feel free to leave comments. I sort of thrive off them.   
> P.S. thanks :)


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